


tell me ('bout the man i need to be)

by barbiewrites



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Alternate Universe - The Bachelor, Angst, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reality TV, The Bachelor: Tony Stark Edition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 00:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbiewrites/pseuds/barbiewrites
Summary: The Bachelor AU, featuring Sam as the host, Tony as the Bachelor, and everyone else vying for his love.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> title is from indian summer by handsome ghost, only bc i thought it fit nicely. borrowed some characters from 616 but this is mostly mcu based.

“And I’m --” He cuts himself off, shaking his head and swiping a hand through his hair. 

“You fucked it up!” Bucky accuses from beside him, slapping his bicep. 

“I know!” Steve replies, red as a cherry now. “Sorry! This is a weird thing for me!”   
Bucky shakes his head, waving a hand at whoever was holding the camera. “We’ll cut it out, let’s go again.” 

“Buck --” Steve protests, but the other man isn’t listening, because he’s pushing his hair from his face and starting again. 

“This is my friend,” he says, clapping Steve on the shoulder, “Steven Grant Rogers. He’s 6’2”, a hundred-eighty pounds of pure muscle,” Steve snorts out a laugh at that, “and he’s twenty eight years old. He’s an artist right now, but maybe you recognize him from playing as captain on the, uh, West Point Black Knights ice hockey team two years in a row. Last year he came back from serving five years active duty in Afghanistan.” Beside him, Steve is fighting away a giddy smile, as if the situation is too funny for him to keep off his face.

“He lives in Brooklyn, New York, with me, his roommate. We got no pets, landlord’s orders, and, uh, yeah. We’re filming this in our living room, but if you’ve ever had an apartment in New York City, we might as well be in the kitchen.”

“Stevie here’s been single a while. Last time he had a serious relationship was in highschool, but--” 

“Buck --” 

“Shut up,” he says, lifting a hand, before the both of them break out into giggles. “She was a good girl,” he insists, looking back to the camera. “And now his standards are way too high. Plus, he’s got a bad habit of lettin’ good stuff pass him by.” He glances at Steve, the smiles now muted, and they share a look. 

“As I was saying,” Bucky continues, “only child, parents passed, so his only familys his friends. A funny story about him is --”

“Oh, Jesus --” 

Bucky holds up his hand to silence Steve once more, “When he was little, if you’d believe it, he was skinny as a stick, and I had to come save his ass all the damn time. He’s plenty good at starting fights, this guy. Back then, he wasn’t so good at finishin’ ‘em. So, he goes up to this guy who’s giving him a hard time,” Steve puts his face in his hands, bashful. “And goes ‘I can do this all day’ all tough like, and this guy moves in to give it to him. So he gets his two front teeth knocked out by this guy, little eight year old Steve Rogers, and they weren’t even his adult teeth! His last two baby teeth knocked out by some big oaf at eight years old.” 

“And here’s what he’d do for his hometown, okay? We’re out in Brooklyn, and Stevie here’s got some pieces in a gallery up a little north, so he’d take his lucky date up there, and they’d --” Bucky continues for another ten minutes, going over exactly how he’d plan out their hometown date, his dream vacation, Bucky shows off a few of his art pieces, and the corner of his room that housed all his art supplies. 

When Bucky is done, he nudges Steve with his elbow. “Your turn, jerk. Sell me.” He teases, and Steve laughs, before clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“Well, this is _ James  _ \--”

 

\-----

 

“Okay, but statistically speaking --”

“Statistically speaking your public image is below the gutter, Tony. The switch to energy boosted us a little, but Everheart’s exposee dragged you right back down!” Pepper taps her StarkPad a few more times, but Tony reaches over and swipes the stats away. 

“I’m not in the business of --”

“Kissing asses, I know.” She fixes him with an unimpressed expression. “Believe me, I know.” It’s the voice of a woman who has cleaned her fill of messes. “Look, I don’t need you to fall in love with anyone I just need you to do it. It’s two months in LA, Tony, then they fly you out to Puerto Vallarta and you spend another month there. You’d be the first bisexual bachelor. This would break headlines.”   
Tony sighs, covers his eyes with his hand. “Can I tinker? How -- how am I going to stay on top of R&D if I’m being torn to shreds by money hungry --”

“Tony.” 

“-- contestants, how am I supposed to work?”   
Pepper fixes him with another unimpressed look and slides a file across to him. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.” 

Tony sighs, sinking lower in his arm chair and picks up the file. “Is this the part where I sell my soul to Warner Brothers?”

“You’re signing an agreement to a better quality of life for Chelsea in PR.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous. Totally ruining my whole playboy thing.”  
Pepper stands. “A shame, truly.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just a ploy to get me married because you and Happy are oh so -- happy?” He eyes the rock on her finger. 

She tuts. “No, Tony. I don’t need you telling me to know that these relationships are superficial at best.” 

“So why do this to me?”

Pepper sighs, unbuttons her blazer and drops back into the chair. “You’re an icon, Tony. If you can behave for three months and do this, we’re going to break boundaries. The show will finally have someone who isn’t some 2-D beefy, boring, desk job straight guy.” She studies him a moment, her thumb rubbing over her wedding band. “And maybe you’ll actually like one of these people! It’s not like you’re putting yourself out there as it is.” 

Part of her wanted to believe that maybe this would work out. The other part, the logical part, the majority -- knew the truth. This show depended on hopeless romantics, which Tony was, but. She’s also rather him not get hurt. If Tony got his hopes up for this, it’d be just as terrible as it was good. You can’t fall in love from arms length.   
Tony held up his hand, seemingly to consider what he wanted to say. “I resent that statement,” he establishes, “but I’ll go if you rubber stamp the new jet-powered --”

“The world does not need  _ jet-powered roller skates _ ,” she says, shaking her head. 

“They’re little jets! Baby jets, if you will.” 

“What if someone burns themselves?”  
“User error.” He counters quickly.   
“I’ll see what I can do,” she lies with a roll of her eyes, and Tony deadpans. 

“Pepper --” 

“Ms. Potts, Sir, your three o’clock is waiting in the lobby.” JARVIS chimes above them. 

Pepper gives him a sweet smile. “That’s the German Ambassador. Shall we?” 

 

\-----

 

He does it. On a whim, and because he’s a hopeless romantic at heart, and because he doesn’t have all that much to lose (other than money, but he has lawyers for that). Three months since Tony Stark was announced as the newest bachelor, and things kind of exploded for a while. 

@frankgarrison21: I feel like I’d be more upset that the Bachelor is going gay if the new Bachelor wasn’t Tony Stark.

 

@stanconfess: if you’re in my mentions upset that the bachelor is not only a bisexual man but includes poc, an amputee, and PLENTY of lgbt contestants consider yourself BLOCKT.

 

@rachael6hill: #BachelorBoycott #MaketheBachelorStraightAgain

 

@VeronicaLinetti: @wilsonhenry He’s been on the Forbes 500 since before he was born. I’m pretty sure if he wanted an all female contestant pool he could have one. 

 

@cutegirl420: i still hate tony stank’s war profiteering ass but i feel like i gotta watch him on the bachelor or else they’ll stop letting the gays on reality tv……..

 

@heatherhenson: why are we focusing on tony stark when we have ALL these good looking men and women who are about to be single as fuck…..

  
  


In all honesty, he hadn’t spent too long dwelling on what anyone else had to say about it. If he was still concerned with those kinds of things, he’d be a much less happy man. 

 

“Tony?” Someone asks, and he lifts his hand to a sharp looking man with a gap between his teeth. 

His makeup artist swipes something over his cheek and Tony sticks his hand out to shake. “You must be Sam.” 

He gives a quick nod. “The one and only.”  
“That’s my line,” Tony replies, only making the man look more smug.

“He means that he’s glad to finally put a face to a voice on the phone.” Pepper says, rising to give Sam a quick hug. “How are things looking on your end?” 

“Good, good. We just got the opening shot, did my introduction, we’re set to have everyone come in pretty soon here.” 

Pepper blows out a quick breath, moves one of Tony’s hairs into place -- which he immediately changes back -- and excuses herself to hunt down the makeup woman to make sure he was camera ready. Sam leans back against the makeup table. 

“How’s it feeling for you?”

Tony rolls his shoulders. “Kind of like I’m the one being judged rather than the one doing the judging.” 

Sam nods in understanding. “Don’t feel like you need to decide tonight. Think of production as a secondary. Get a feel for everyone -- real substance brings in the viewers, despite what everyone might think.”  
He thinks for a moment, then looks up at Sam. “You’ve seen a lot of guys in my seat.” 

“And girls,” he confirms. 

“You’ve seen them on the other side of this….. fiasco, too.” Another nod. “You really think it works?”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “I think that for the vast majority, they don’t know how to play the game. That’s what this is, right? A game. Some people enter this high stress environment and they’re playing to win, because that win is supposed to fix their lives. Some people thrive in the high stress types of places that shouldn’t be there when you’re married. So, yeah. I think if you do this right, you can come out of here with someone who’s gonna sit by you the entire ride. Knowing what to look for is the key.”

Tony pursed his lips. “And what’s that? What am I supposed to be looking for?” 

Sam shrugs. “People who aren’t playing the game.” 

Pepper sweeps back in, the makeup artist in tow, who pats his face with a puff before Pepper is pulling him out of his chair. 

“Are we ready to go?” Sam asks, straightening out his blazer. 

“First guy is two minutes out. Come on, go, go,” she says, ushering him out the door.

More people flutter around as Tony walks up to the driveway. The camera men get a few filler shots of him standing around before there’s yelling of ‘ _ quiet on set! _ ’ as the first limo pulls up. 

He’s big and blonde and has to be at least a yard wide across the shoulders, Tony thinks. He moves as if he’s trying not to be in the way, and there’s a brief moment where he notices all the cameras and a flush flares up on his cheeks. He wrings his hands together, then starts walking up the drive. 

“Hi, Handsome.” Tony says, pulling on a grin.

“Uh, hi.” Handsome says, still unsure but obviously flattered, and outstretches his hand.

“You alright?” Tony asks quietly. They’re both wearing mics, but he wants to be subtle. Maybe make the audio unuseable for this guy’s sake.

Handsome’s eyes flick up from the cobblestones. “Uh, yeah, just…” 

“Nervous?” 

Handsome nods. “Yeah. Didn’t expect so many cameras.” 

“You’re doing good.” Tony promises. “Take your time.”

He gives Tony a long look, lips tugging at the corners. “I totally just ruined my first impression.” 

“How would you have done that? Being nervous?” Handsome’s expression, like a kicked puppy, gives him all the answer he needs. “That’d be hypocritical of me.”

Handsome seems to relax a little at that. “Can we try again?” 

Tony nods. “Yeah. Let’s do it over.”

Handsome takes a step back, lifts his gaze to finally fit on Tony. “Steve,” he introduces, and Tony shakes his hand again. 

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Steve.” Tony smiles back. It’s a little more genuine. 

“Yeah. Um, maybe we’ll get past that. Acquaintances. Hopefully.” 

“If you’re the worst first impression I have all night, these next three months are gonna be real hard.” 

Steve smiles a little more. “You’ve got a cute smile.” He compliments quietly, and Steve ducks his head, going red. “Wait for me inside,” Tony decides. “I wanna talk to you some more.” 

Steve nods a little sheepishly. “Okay.” 

Limo after limo comes, revealing all the contestants of the season. There’s Natasha, a stunning redhead who says something to him in Russian, instructing him to find her if he wants the translation. Bucky, who had the Stark Prosthetic Model i90 and had given it a quite beautiful paint job. Stephen, a sophisticated doctor, T’Challa, who was a prince from Africa, and not the scammy kind, Thor and Loki, more royalty from Scandinavia, Tyberius, a genius and fellow MIT grad who had gone right in to kiss Tony on the cheek, Gamora, an actual astronaut, as well as a dozen or so others. Needless to say, he’s grateful for the coffee that Pepper hands him. He notices Sam, now wearing a heavier coat, talking to another producer. 

“How do you feel?” She asks, tucking her hands  into her pockets. “First impressions?” 

“Tired, mostly. This helps.” He takes another sip, and Pepper lifts her chin. 

“Not too much. You still have to sleep.” 

“I’m about to be passed around like a tray of appetizers, and I can’t have any booze. Let me drink my coffee.” 

She huffs, but allows him another two pulls before she’s taking the drink away. “You have people to fall in love with in there. And a rose to hand out.” She passes him a notecard with a general idea of what to say when he walks in.

“Who should I give it to?” Tony asks, scanning over the card.  
“This is yours, Tony. It’s a cue card.”

“The first impression rose, Pepper. Focus.” 

She gives him a look that tells him to hold the attitude, and he gives her a smile in return. “It’s your rose. Give it to who you like.”

“But you’re a better judge of character than I am,” he complains, following as she leads him up to the doorway. 

“You’re right,” she admits. “Go on.”

“So I need your advice --” 

“Tony, you’re clear to come in.” A producer calls, and Pepper pulls the cue card from his hand. “Listen to this,” she taps his chest, “not this,” she points a manicured finger at his head. 

He sends her a pout, but she turns him by his shoulders, and he turns up his thousand watt smile. He sets a hand on the knob, and after an order from a producer, steps in. 

There’s a general sound of quiet cheers as he walks back in, a hearty ‘ _ there he is! _ ’ as Tony’s entrance is noted. He gives a quiet laugh. 

“Wow. This is just like every other day for me.” They all laugh politely. “Okay, um, all jokes aside, I’m glad to see such a beautiful pool of contestants. I know that I deserve no less.” Another round of chuckles. “I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you over the next few months. And, if you’re nervous,” his eyes find the sheepish blonde in the back, so large in size but seemingly trying to take up no space at all, “just know, we’re all on the same show. This is no more you for me as it is me for you. This experience is something we’re all coming out of here with. So, um, do I --?” He lifts his hand and a glass of sparkling juice finds it. “Cheers,” he says, lifting his drink, and the contestants raise their glasses, too, “to leaving comfort zones, and the benefits that come with it.” 

He moves forward, clinking glasses here and there before they all take their sips. “And, uh, Stephen.” The doctor’s eyes spark up. “Would you do me the honor of starting off the night?”

 

\-----

 

Talking to people has been intensely tiring. It’s fun and all, but it’s so much. He has to remember names and occupations and little things here and there and one contestant -- Justin -- has interrupted his private conversations on three separate occasions, trying to talk to him. He finally manages to sneak away to the kitchen, hoping it’d be devoid of anyone else. 

“Oh,” he hears, and Tony looks from where he’s filling a glass of water. “I thought you’d, um, be busy. Talking and all.” 

Tony huffs, takes a drink of water. “I have been. I think my brain is overloaded. So many names, so little space. Numbers I’m all for. Getting to know thirty people all in one night?” He shakes his head. 

Steve chuckles. “Yeah. I can see how that’d be overwhelming. I’m overwhelmed just being around all of them. I can’t imagine what it feels like to be on your end.”

Tony smiles a little. “I’ve got a little experience being poked and prodded. It is what it is.” Tony waits a beat. “You haven’t approached me.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Just manners,” he chuckles, looking at his fingers. 

“Damn,” Tony mutters, leaning across the island while his eyes studied Steve. “You really are fucking stunning. I mean -- utterly. And I know a lot of attractive people.” A cameraman moved to better their shot, and Steve flushed harder.

“ _ That’s _ sweet.” Steve replies, a little grin on his lips. 

“It’s the truth.” Tony sips his water again. “So, what do you do for a living? Foster disabled puppies? Help old ladies crossing streets all day, every day?”

Steve lets out a little laugh, and Tony can’t help but smile at the sound. “I’m -- a freelance artist right now.”

Tony nods, “Respectable.”

Scoffing, Steve looks back up to him. “Richest man on the planet calling my job respectable. Never thought I’d hear that.”

“Hey,” Tony objects, “art is important. I’m an artist.”

“For things people use.”

“People use art. Everyone uses art.”

Steve gives him a slow smile. “Your art is important.”

“No more so than yours.” He replies. “I’d love to see some of your work, Mr. Humility.” 

Steve looks at him for a long moment. “Maybe if --”

“Hey! Tony!” 

He sends Steve a quick ‘ _ kill me now _ ’ look before turning to smile at Justin. “Mister Hammer.”

“Hey, big guy, you don’t mind if I borrow Tony from you a minute? I’ve been looking all over for him.” 

Steve looks at Tony a moment, then nods. “He’s all yours.” 

“Cool! So, Tony, baby, I was thinking about what you said earlier, and I gotta say --”

 

\-----

 

“So,” he says, coming back into the main room, and Peter’s hand slips from the low of his back to join the rest of the guys. “I believe I have a rose to hand out.” Someone pulls the long-stemmed flower from where it’s been resting the whole night and hands it up to him. “Thank you.” 

Tony clears his throat. “So, I’d like to let everyone know that you’re all in a good place. Tonight has been a lot, but I’m confident in my choice tonight. I suppose, without further ado, um. Steve.” 

He looks like a deer in headlights, eyes wide, cheeks flushing all the way up to his ears. “Oh.” 

“Will you accept this first impression rose?” Tony asks, extending the flower. 

The other man wipes his hands on his pants, then stands and takes the flower. “I’m, uh, flattered.” 

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.” 

Suddenly, Sam is beside him. “If we’re ready here, let’s move on to the ceremony.” 

Tony is directed away from the group as everyone moved into the room, lining up on their steps. 

“How are you feeling?” Sam asks as Tony’s face is patted once more with powder. 

“Excited,” he replies, all causal cool, his previous nerves completely gone. 

“That confident already?”

“In my choice tonight, yes.” He nods. “After this, I doubt it’ll be so easy.” 

Another producer calls that he’s clear to enter and Sam nods to him. “After you, man.”

The two walk into the room, and Tony approaches the platter of roses. 

“As you all should know,” Sam says, “if you do not receive a rose tonight, your first night in the Bachelor Mansion will be your last. You’ll be asked to collect your things and go. Tony, if you will.” 

He flashes them all a smile. “Natasha,” he calls, and the redhead comes forward confidently. “Will you accept this rose?”

“I’d be flattered.” 

It goes on for 27 more names, until the only ones left are two men. Otto Octavius and Justin Hammer stand roseless, and  Tony lifts the last flower. “Justin,” he says, and the man grins like a cat, moving to step forward. “Thank you for making this the easiest decision I’ve made in twenty years. Otto, would you accept this rose?”

Justin’s face falls, and Otto moves to take the rose. The rest of the contestants look scandalized. “What? I deserve that rose.” Justin insists, and Tony raises a finger. 

“You deserve to go home. I found you utterly disrespectful, self-absorbed and egotistical. I hope you have a lovely flight home.” 

Justin holds his arms out. “You can’t just --” 

Tony raises his eyebrows. “But I can. That’s the whole point of this. Goodbye, Justin.”

Sam steps in. “Justin, because you did not receive a rose, please say your goodbyes and go.” 

Tony gives another 40 second spiel about how much he appreciates the rest of the contestants, before he’s finally given the clear to go. He and Pepper drive out, Pepper falling asleep in the passenger side, feet bare. 

“Only, what? 90 days left?” She says from the doorway, heels in her hand. 

“Something like that,” Tony grunts in response, kicking his loafers off. “Are they all going to feel so exhausting?” He asks, then looks to her. 

“Hm,” she hums. “Now you know what it’s like to deal with you all day.” Tony scoffs, opening his mouth to protest, but she shuts the door before he has the chance. “Goodnight, Tony! I’ll see you at nine!”

 

\-----

 

@hatesecks: LMAOOOO JUSTIN HAMMER ON THE BACHELOR GET FUCKT DUDE

@greengrace: if tony stark doesn't marry steve from brooklyn he is going to CATCH these hands

@rileylovesari: in reply to @taylorthompson BUT DID U SEE THE ASTRONAUT

@SillonDable: me omw to scandanavia after tony stark breaks these princes' hearts

@nessa171717: in reply to @SillonDable DILLON DID YOU SEE T"CHALLA THOUGHHHH


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bunch of ppl get written off and this is kinda messy but eh we get to see some one on one stuff that isn't just w steve. this is also my first time writing most of these guys but i hope i did them justice!

One by one, contestants get pruned off. No one does anything near what Justin had attempted, and most of the eliminations are somewhat mutual. 

 

\-----

 

“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you.” 

That pulls Tony’s attention quickly. They’re at Huntington Library, a picnic blanket spread below them, and he sets down the basket he’d been unpacking. “I hope there’s a little more to that story.” 

Stephen gives a little smile, then pats the space beside him. “Come closer.” 

Tony does as he says, and when he is, Stephen puts one of his hands in Tony’s. “You’ve noticed my hands by now.” 

His tone is soft and smooth, but more somber than usual. “Yeah,” Tony confirms, running his fingers over the scars that covered Stephen’s hands.

Stephen nods, then carefully looks at Tony. “I was in a car accident. It was rainy, and the road winding, and I was looking at my phone when I shouldn’t have and going far too fast. I bumped another car and lost control.” Tony squeezes the hand in his, silently encouraging him. “I should have died that night. By some grace, I didn’t.” Strange pauses, glances to his hands, then back to Tony with a look that seems too sad to be nostalgic. 

“Take your time,” Tony says quietly, eyes trained on the other man. 

“I got eleven steel pins in my hands. Torn ligaments, extensive nerve damage.” Tony can feel Stephen’s hand give a little twitch in his, so he raises it to his lips and kisses his scarred knuckles. The other man gives a little smile. “I would never be able to… hold a scalpel again. To do the kind of work I’d earned the right to after countless years of medical school, to save people again. And I, with no sense of ego, Tony, I really was the best. And I lost my ability to do what I’d built so much of my life around.”

“I told you I went to Nepal,” Stephen says, and he seems to relax a little more. Tony nods. “I went in search of an ancient technique that was supposed to greatly increase the health of damaged nerves. The therapy I was getting in New York only frustrated me further. What I found there, in Nepal, was so much more than that. I trained for fourteen months, learning meditation and yoga techniques. We lived in the mountains, ate hardly anything. Mostly tea. I learned there, that I didn’t have to be the best doctor. That I was fine, just on my own, trying my best.”

“When I returned to New York, I sold nearly everything I owned. All of the bells and whistles, watches I didn’t need, both my cars, almost all of my clothes. I found a job, uh,” he chuckles, and shakes his head. “You’ll laugh at me.” 

“No, no. With you, maybe. Not at you.”

“I teach yoga now.” 

Tony grins, as Stephen waits for him to laugh. “That’s really, really cute,” Tony admits instead. “Do you ride your bike to work?”

Stephen gives him a look. “Yes, I do.” 

Tony’s grin widens. “I love that. Go back to your story.” 

“Only because you’re insisting.” He says, then twists his hand, lacing their fingers with one another’s. “I teach yoga. My apartment looks like a rainforest. I volunteer, helping others with damaged nerves, on weekends. We see a lot of veterans.”

“I love it.” Tony grins. “Here I was thinking you couldn’t get any cuter.” 

“You’re not upset that I lied?” 

Tony shakes his head. “You took the chance to be upfront with me now. You can’t change that you lied, but you did take the initiative to tell me before I could find out on my own. And I respect that.” 

Stephen smiles. “I’m grateful.” 

“So,” Tony asks, tone cheerier, “is it too forward of me to ask you about my chakras?” 

 

\-----

 

Week 2, Tony realizes that Emma Frost is just barely the wrong side of too menacing for him, and in honesty, she doesn’t complain when she’s eliminated. She takes it in stride, walking with elegance and grace and a high chin in her Versace Atelier gown. Four weeks later, she’s engaged to a man named Sebastian. 

 

\-----

 

Steve gets a one on one, and while he’s flattered, he doesn’t know how to act. Dates aren’t really his forte, and especially not expensive ones. 

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” Steve admits. His button down is open low, sunglasses on, skin shiny with sunscreen. “Other than the ferry.”

“First time for everything, right? Or -- don’t tell me. You don’t go on boats because you get massively seasick.” 

Steve chuckles. “No, no. I just.. Never had the chance. The army would’ve been my only chance, really, and I haven’t had the money for a yachting trip since I got out.” 

“How’s it feel so far?” 

Steve shifts in the sun, and moves to unbutton his shirt, but thinks that might be a little too much. He’ll leave it how it is for now. “Good. I like the sun. Don’t get weather like this in New York.” 

“You do in the Hamptons.” 

Steve chuckles. “Never been.” 

“Maybe I’ll take you one day.” 

Steve is glad they’re both lying down so that Tony can’t see the dopey smile on his face. “Did you put sunscreen on?” Steve asks after a moment. 

“I’ve got Italian blood. We don’t burn.” 

“That’s -- not true. You could really hurt your skin, Tony.” 

“Steve, darling,” Tony starts, and even now, Steve knows better than to listen. 

“Hold on,” he says, sitting up. Tony reaches for him, but Steve slips away, walking down to the cockpit of the boat and grabbing his bottle of sunscreen. He glances at himself in the mirror and undoes the last of his buttons, judges himself, then adjusts his shirt. No, he thinks, it’s too much. Too forward, too quickly. Steve redoes the button, then goes back up to Tony, who has been shirtless since they pulled off the dock. 

“Turn over,” Steve instructs, and Tony follows his orders. 

“This is very quickly beginning to look like a bad porno.”

Steve laughs, squirting some sunscreen into his palm, then capping it and placing it aside. “Like most good things in life?” Steve asks, rubbing his hands together, then onto Tony’s back. 

“I like your attitude.” 

Tony’s back is well muscled in the kind of way that suggests labor rather than intensive gym sessions. His skin is a little lighter where a tank top would go, but he has evenly tanned skin, little freckles across his shoulders. Steve has always thought freckles were cute, and these are no different. His hands rub up either side of Tony’s back, the width of his outstretched hand just enough to span from spine to shoulder. “You can flip back,” Steve says, leaning back to a kneeling position. 

Steve holds out the sunscreen. “What?” Tony asks. “What about the rest of me?” 

He chuckles. “If you want me to.” 

“I do. Keep going, pool boy.” 

Steve laughs a little heartier, rubbing his hands over Tony’s shoulder. “Or what? You won’t tip me?”

Tony peeks through one eye. “Don’t tempt me.” 

Tony eventually coaxes Steve into swimming with him just a little, and when the sun starts to set, they go up to the topmost deck. 

“A hot tub on a yacht?” Steve asks, eyebrows drawn. 

“Us one percent-ers do love irony,” Tony says, climbing in. Steve shifts on his feet. “You coming?” Tony asks, and Steve gives a shy smile before nodding. He pulls his towel from his shoulders and climbs in quickly. 

“How does this fair in terms of first dates?” He asks, as a waitress walks over, two bottle and two champagne flutes. 

“Told you. Not much to go off.” 

The waitress pours the uncorked bottle of sparkling juice into one and hands it to Tony, then moves to pour the champagne into the empty glass. “Juice,” he says, “is fine for me, too.” 

She hands him the full glass and excuses herself. “Cheers,” he offers his flute out for Steve, “to sparkling juice.” 

Steve chuckles a little bit, then clinks his glass. “Cheers.” 

Tony takes a sip, then props his feet up on the bench beside them. Steve kind of wants to take the invitation to wrap his arm around Tony’s shoulders, but…. It might be too forward of him. “I know my reason for juice,” Tony says, glancing up at Steve before looking back to the sunset. “What’s yours?” 

“Seemed right.” 

“Did it?” 

Steve hums in confirmation. 

“You know what else feels right?”

He hums again, but this time it’s indicative of a question. 

“You putting your arm around me.” 

The water in the tub heats up a few more degrees as Steve’s body burns in a flush. “Come on, big guy,” Tony encourages, moving his free hand to guide Steve’s over his shoulders. “Isn’t that comfier?” 

Tony’s eyes are looking out at the view, and Steve catches himself studying the other man. He looks at the setting sun. “Yeah. You were right.” 

“Always am.” 

 

\-----

 

In week 3 we say goodbye to Otto. Being just above Hammer, apparently, was not nearly enough to keep him in the game. 

Week 4 watches Maria Hill say goodbye. Not for any spectacular reason, simply that he felt they weren’t quite ready for one another. 

 

\-----

 

The next week, Natasha takes the spotlight. 

They go to a swanky arcade-themed bar and share appetizers while playing all the games they can manage. Tony isn’t even close to threatening her scores in the motorcycle game, but he gives her a run for her money in Centipede and pinball. 

“You’re not very forthcoming,” he says, holding up the last mozzarella stick. 

“Is that a compliment?” She responds cooly, then bends it in half, ducking her head around to bite through the stringy cheese. 

“Sure. It can be.” He responds, swiping up some marinara. “I think it’s interesting. You’re like Gretchen Weiners. Lots of hair, full of secrets.” 

She grins, popping the last of the fried snack into her mouth before wiping her fingers on a napkin. “Sounds like you have questions.” 

“Maybe one or two.”

“Don’t make me beg, Stark. It’s unbecoming of me.” 

“Fine, fine. You’re from…”

“D.C. area, for the most part. I travel for work.”

Tony nods. “Right. That’s what I thought. And you work for…?” 

She smiles wider at him. “Classified.” 

“How is it safe for you to be on T.V? Shouldn’t you be out hiding in a cave?” 

She cocks her head. “Bet you’d like that.”  
“Would I, though? And here I thought I was growing on you.” 

“You’d have no one to beat you in pinball.” 

Tony rolls his eyes. “Yes, exactly. Am I that transparent? Are my priorities so self-evident?” 

She sips her drink -- a bloody mary, of all things -- and considers it. “I dished something. Your turn.”

He hums. “I was born with six fingers on my left hand.” 

She rolls her eyes and makes a buzzer sound with her mouth. “Try again.” 

“You really are good at picking up lies. I’m impressed.” He thinks for a moment again. “I’m ambidextrous.” 

She considers this, then pulls a pen from thin air. “Prove it.” 

“Game on,” he says, taking the pen from her. He lies a napkin down, and while keeping eye contact, carefully sketches out a message. “Done.” He declares, capping the pen, and she keeps eye contact as she picks up the napkin, only moving her gaze once she’d read it. 

“You have the most stunning eyes.” She reads, and keeps a smile to herself. “Glad someone’s gotten around to noticing.”

“How could I not?” 

She folds up the napkin, and soon it disappears. “That’s the secret, you know.” 

“Hm?”

“Picking up lies. It’s the eyes.”

“What about them?” 

“People won’t look at you, or they look to the side, or try to break up the eye contact. Try. Two truths, one lie. Go.

“I had a dog named Fido when I was seven,” he says, quick as a whip, “when I was 13 I broke a kid’s kneecap by slamming it in a bathroom door, and I used to be terrified of the ocean when I was a baby.” 

“You’ve never had a pet in your life,” Natasha replies just as quickly, smug as ever. 

“You really had a 33% chance of getting it,” Tony dismisses, “beginners luck.”

“Again, then.”

“Orange is my favorite Skittle flavor. I only drink dark roast coffee. My class pet, in third grade, was named after me.” 

“You hate orange Skittles.”

Tony cocks his head. She must really be good. “I’m lactose intolerant, I once got stung by a bee on my forehead, and the only time I’ve ever been on a public bus, the tire popped.” 

“You really should’ve given that last mozzarella stick to me, instead of splitting it,” Natasha says smugly, pulling over her bloody mary to sip on. 

“Dammit. You’re good.” 

 

\-----

 

Loki is eliminated in week 5. Thor cries, and tries to be discreet, but fails spectacularly. Bruce comforts him, and twitter suggests Bruce and Thor drop out to go be one big Scandinavian polyamorous monarchy. 

 

\-----

 

“Let me know if this hurts. I’m, like, probably vastly unqualified to be doing this.” 

“Just pop it right off,” Bucky tells him, and Tony looks up at him. 

“You’re not a Barbie doll, I can’t just snap your arm off and go ‘oopsie daisy, let’s just jam it back on!’” 

Bucky chuckles at the image. “I promise. I take it off to sleep, it just takes a hell of a lot longer when I’m on my own. Didn’t you design this personally?” 

“I -- probably, yes, but in fairness I design a lot of these and this isn’t a model I’m completely familiar with,” he reasons, examining the joint of where his skin and the metal connect.”

“It was a test model, so I don’t know if that --”

“Test model?” Tony asks, eyeing him from where he’s standing at Bucky’s back. 

“Yeah. I got into a testing group. Couldn’t afford it otherwise, these things are like, fifty grand.” 

“You’re supposed to give these back after testing,” Tony says, but he’s trying to keep a laugh back. 

Bucky glances at him over his shoulder. “Oh,” he mutters, like he wasn’t completely sure. “Are we now?” 

The both of them break into giggles, Tony putting his forehead against the back of Bucky’s neck. “You really came on my dating show wearing a piece of tech you stole from me,” he accuses, slapping his side lightly. 

“Not from you,” Bucky attempts, but Tony shuts him down. 

“What do you mean ‘not from you’? My name is on it!” 

Bucky giggles again. “Sorry?” He asks, and Tony just shakes his head with a wide smile, his hands now moving on their own accord. 

“Don’t be. Once I get back into working, I’ll get you on the list.” 

“What list?” 

“Prototypes. That you can keep, and won’t cost you fifty grand a pop.” 

“You don’t --”

“But I can, and I will.” He twists something and the arm falls slack, Tony slowly pulling the metal away. 

“Finally. You got it.” He praises, then lifts up the little cap he kept over the stump of what was left. 

“We use different locking mechanisms on the test versions.” He says as he sets the arm in it’s box, then closes it up and moves to help Bucky strap the felt cover over his chest to keep it in place. “Feel good?” He asks, adjusting the the tightness around his chest. 

He nods. “Yeah, just fine.” 

Tony hands him back his shirt, then waits for him to dress before walking out from the tent. Two teenaged looking workers help them into two sets of harnesses, before they begin the short walk over to the center of the bridge. “This is one hell of a way to build trust, Stark.” 

“I heard you liked extreme sports.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “back when I was seventeen and had all four limbs.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. You’re, what? Twenty eight? And who needs arms? Not us.”

“All I’m saying is that if I pull my back or something, you’re footing the bill.” 

“How will I survive?” Tony teases. 

They finally get to the center of the bridge where two more workers start helping them strap in. 

“This sure is one way to build trust,” Bucky chuckles as they’re strapped one against the other, chest to -- well, head. 

“You’re obnoxiously big,” Tony replies.

“Get closer!” One of the workers tells them, then tightens some straps around them that doesn’t give them much of a choice in the matter. 

“At least I’ll get to say I got into some heavy petting with Tony Stark before I died,” Bucky mutters, looking out over the bridge. 

“Sure are charming, aren’t you?” Tony chuckles as their ankles get strapped up. The two of them shuffle forward onto the platform. 

“Alright go ahead and wrap your arms around one -- oh. Um,” the girl says, and Bucky chuckles. 

“Got it. Go on.” 

She visibly relaxes. “Keep your heads tucked, arms strong around one another and do not touch the buckles until we get you back up on the platform. Can I get a verbal confirmation from both of you?” 

“I’m good here,” Tony says from where his head is tucked against Bucky’s chest, Bucky’s hand holding him there. 

“Me, too.” 

“Alright!” She cheers, then turns to a producer. “Are we clear for your shot?” The man gives a short nod. “Ready? One, two, three!” She gives them a gentle push and the two sink like a stone. 

The feeling of falling is both terrifying and exhilarating. It seems to last forever that Tony is clutching onto him, that Bucky is squeezing Tony against his chest, that they’re so close they might as well be one person falling. It feels free, and safe with their arms clutched around one another. 

Tony feels it as the rope goes taut, and them he can finally let out a cheer, Bucky following suit just a few seconds later. They dangle around a few moments as they’re lifted by a wench. 

“Look at that,” Tony sighs, wiggling out of the last latch of his harness. “We didn’t die.”

Bucky laughs, looking up at Tony from where he was sitting on the ground. “Not even close.” 

 

\-----

  
  


Sunset Bain and Jen Walters leave the following two weeks, before the stress of being in a situation like this gets to Bruce and he regretfully tells Tony he has to leave. 

Thor is next, and most people speculate it’s truly because of the loss of his two closest friends. 

 

\-----

 

“How was it?”

Tiberius grins, pulling his tie loose. Steve, Bucky and Natasha are occupying their usual space, each with a drink in hand. Rumiko is stretched over the other couch, her feet in T’Challa’s lap and head in Strange’s while he reads a thick hardcover. “How do you think it was?”

Natasha’s face sours. “Is he drunk?” She mutters, and Bucky chuckles. 

“Stevie’s gonna lose it. Can barely handle the bastard sober.” He mimics her tone, keeping it quiet, and Steve elbows him.

“Where’d you guys go?” Clint asks. 

“Steakhouse with a nice view. Surf and turf, bottle of pinot, bottle of --”

“You got him wine?” Steve asks, mouth pressed into a line. 

Tiberius shrugs a little. “Yes. And?”

“And he’s a recovering alcoholic, genius.” Steve replies sharply. 

“He’s fine. It’s not your business, anyway.” 

Steve looks to Bucky and Natasha. “I mean, isn’t it kind of everyone’s business?” 

Tiberius pulls off his blazer with a huff. “Look, Steve, I know you’re upset you didn’t get the one on one --”

“That’s not what I --” 

“But at the end of the day, it was my date, and not yours. So, without entertaining your mindless sputtering any longer, adieu.” 

Tiberius struts off towards his bedroom. 

Steve’s expression is one of complete and utter confusion. I -- did I?” 

Natasha puts a hand on his shoulder. “Deep breath. He’ll be off by next week.” 

 

\-----

 

Week 8, Tony gives Rumiko the first rose and she asks to speak to him outside. The others, the eight of them waiting in a general feeling of stress as Rumiko speaks to him. She admits that she can’t be with a man who she couldn’t settle down with, and that she’d been thinking of this for a while, and hands back her rose. 

He’d really liked her, in all honesty. She leaves him sitting in the garden, eyes stinging, playing with the stem of the rose. A voice asks if she’d been the one. 

But, because he is Tony Stark, he stands, practices his smile a few times, and heads back inside. He hands out his roses, and when Sam asks him what’s wrong, Tony explains as briefly as possible. 

 

\-----

 

“Quill, let’s get a confessional before you head back into the house."

The man nods, finding his seat, and quickly someone is patting his face with powder, and adjusting the lighting. Sam takes a seat next to the camera. 

“Remember to restate the question in your answer.” Sam reminds, “And don’t look at me, look at the camera. How do you think your one-on-one went this week, Peter?”

“I think the one on one went fucking fantastic,” Peter says, and Sam feels bad for the guys in editing who will no doubt have to censor out 70% of this single clip. 

“I mean, he’s such a gentleman. He’s so sweet. And -- hot air ballooning? You know, I’ve been flirting with him, all my little astronaut jokes about showing him the stars and -- BAM! -- he beats me to it. I still got to brag about my constellation knowledge, though, which was pretty con- _ stellar _ ,” he moves his hands as if beating a drum. “Really, though. Can you seriously believe that? I’d be pissed off if I didn’t feel like -- fucking, uh -- Cinderella, or, no. Who’s the princess? In the sky? Jasmine! I’m Jasmine, and he’s Aladdin, but in a way that, you know,” he waves his hand around vaguely, “respects cultures and whatnot.”

Sam must not look as exasperated as he feels, because Peter continues with his analogy. “And the hot air balloon was our magic carpet! And you -- the producers, you beautiful bastards -- you were our genie! Who’s Abu? We need an Abu. He’s the cute little monkey, we need Abu. You know, I have a dog at home, he’s my dog, my pet dog, I don’t just, like,  _ have _ him. Anyway, his name is Rocket and he’s our Abu. Because Abu isn’t even on the carpet when they sing the song.”

“Alright,” Sam says, forcing a smile before Peter can continue on. “How do you feel your chances in the competition are going forward?”

“I think my chances so far are pretty stable. I mean, it’s like he said on that first night. He’s here just as much as we are. I have to put some faith in the idea that he’s feeling some of what I’m feeling, you know?”

“Well said. Do you have any other words for Bachelor Nation watching at home?”

Peter thinks for a moment, then raises his eyebrows. “Which sounds better, Quill-Stark or Stark-Quill?”

Sam lets out a chuckle at that. “Alright, man. We’ve got it. Have a good night.”

 

\-----

 

The next week, Clint goes home. 

 

There are seven contestants left. 

 

\-----

 

@BuggySly: tony stark is a lesbian icon ONLY because he let sunset bain and jen walters return to us thanks for coming to my ted talk

 

@KerbSol: does anyone else cry about how TENDERLY steve and tony kissed on that yacht…. because let me tell you…..

 

@mintymisty: i haven’t been this invested in a reality show since jersey shore @BachelorABC good job. don’t fuck it up.

 

@MelDays: if u look up bad bitch in the dictionary it shows emma frost getting engaged 4 weeks after being eliminated off the bachelor 

 

@younglucy: in reply to @MelDays let us not forget when Queen Rumiko left tony sitting in that garden while she strutted out to that limo…. a queen…

 

@Beniteksi: my mood is bucky, natasha and steve sitting on that one couch, judging everyone else, drinking wine and gossipping. i live for these 3. 

 

@backdity: is it bad that WHENEVER tiberius on the bachelor opens his mouth i have the immediate reaction to mute ….. also…. that kiss was so creepy….

 

@bradson: in reply to @backdity mans is securing the wallet let him live

 

@iffytale: peter quill is the purest man to ever participate on this stupid ass show i love him with ALL my heart

 

@valvalval: steve r taking off his shirt once he noticed stephen s making tony laugh is the ultimate power move change my mind

 

\-----

The group date that week is a comedy show. Tony sits at the head of a big oval table, with Steve to his left and Tiberius to his right. Things go well, and each of them go up, one by one, to tell a joke or two. 

Peter is a natural, and the crowd woots and cheers at his natural aptitude for being goofy and making others laugh. Strange, too, does strikingly well with his dry humor and wit, using the crowd to pull his jokes. Hecklers are not at all off limits. 

T’Challa does fine, as does Natasha. They don’t overstay their welcomes on stage, taking just enough time to intrigue the audience before stepping off. Tiberius attempts to do the same as the previous two, but he tries a little too hard and it’s obvious. 

Steve, though, has red cheeks leading up to his ears as he goes up. He mutters a few jokes that get chuckles, then shuffles off the stage as quickly as he can, leaving everyone wondering what had just happened. 

Tony takes the stage, then. He’s always been good at making people laugh, and tonight is no different. Of all the people in his entourage, he stays up there the longest. When he’s finished, a jazz band sets up on stage and waiters start bringing drinks around. 

Natasha, Bucky and Steve are missing, but T’Challa assures him he shouldn’t be worried. 

“They do this a lot, if I’m speaking frankly.” 

“Really?” He’s drinking sparkling juice again. 

T’Challa nods. “Steve and Bucky, you know, were friends before coming here for you. Natasha fits well with the two of them. The three of them are… peas?” 

Tony nods. “In a pod, it seems. They don’t have that saying in Wakanda?”

T’Challa shakes his head. “No, not quite. You Colonizers have a funny way of saying certain things.”

“Do we, now?” He asks, and T’Challa chuckles. “Have you ever considered eating humble pie?” 

T’Challa laughs again. “That isn’t a saying. You’re trying to trick me.” 

“Looks like you need help separating the wheat from the chaff. And I promise I’m not taking the Mickey.” 

“Like Mouse?”

“That’s the one,” Tony smiles. “So. You seemed at ease up there. Happy as a sand boy.” 

T’Challa laughs once more. “My sister will love these. It’ll only reaffirm her belief that nothing here makes any kind of sense.”

“She’s back in Wakanda?”

T’Challa nods. “Someone had to watch my Mother while I was away.”

“From what I’ve read about Queen Ramonda, she can take care of Wakanda all on her own.” 

T’Challa lifts a finger to Tony’s lips, shushing him. “Not quite so loud. I can’t have the rest of them believing that.”   
Tony grins. “You’re close with them?”

T’Challa nods. “Very. I call my sister every morning, first thing. Everyone who lives in the castle, we try to foster a relationship with, as well as the leaders of the tribes. Things work smoother that way.” 

Tony nods. “I have to admit, my experience of ruling countries is fairly limited, but you seem like you’re doing a good job.” 

“Pepper is the CEO of your company, but you’re the face.” T’Challa says, and Tony nods. “Similar to how it is in Wakanda. You should see my mother and sister, and the guard --” 

“It’s an all woman guard, right?” 

T’Challa nods. “I’m the only man, most of the time. When the tribes gather, then I have company, but we’re still outnumbered.” 

Tony cocks his head. “Seeing as the two best people I’ve ever known have been women, I’ve gotta say that that’s probably the way to go.” T’Challa chuckles. “What were you saying, then? Sorry for cutting in.”

“They berate me. Schoolyard bullying, for a king.” 

Tony laughs. “Yeah, sounds about right. Pepper gives me the same kind of thing.” 

T’Challa tips his head back. “Then you understand.” 

He takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah, I think I do.” 


End file.
